At last she turned.

A pasty and stoup of wine were upon the table.
"You are tired and shaken," I said, "and you may need all your strength.
Come, eat and drink." "For to-morrow we die," she added, and broke into tremulous laughter.
Her lashes were still wet, but her pride and daring had returned.

She drank the wine I poured for her, and we spoke of indifferent things,--of the game that afternoon, of the Indian Nantauquas, of the wild night that clouds and wind portended.

Supper over, I called Angela to bear her company, and I myself went out into the night, and down the street toward the guest house..